Great Imagination

Happy Monday Everyone. I wasn't sure whether to write this post or not, but considering that this blog is after all recording my journey in writing, good and bad, I had no option. Two weeks ago I was deliriously happy to receive several delightful comments about a short story I had written. The comment that stood out and meant the most to me was the statement, "Well Written." I cannot tell you how that touched my heart. As a late starter, I began to write full-time at the age of 44, I constantly doubt whether this is what I should be doing at all??? Therefore receiving a compliment that mentions the writing as opposed to the story made me feel elated.

Last week though I received feedback on the first three chapters of my YA novel and I couldn't find one compliment in the whole appraisal, not one!!! It would be easy to call the person all the names under the sun, to scream in my head well she's just wrong, and to deny her opinions. But the hardest part for me was the fact  I have spent three and half years writing and re-writing and there was nothing in the critique I could hold onto that I could say well at least she thought this part was good. There was nothing. To say I was deflated was an understatement. I read through the lady's overall report and I felt shocked that I'm still so far away from where I wanted to be at this stage.

For days I simply couldn't muster any will to even acknowledge her words or reply. I'm going to reply today and I have several questions I would like her to answer, but if I'm honest it's hard to pick yourself off the floor when your work is totally slated. In her disclaimer she states that it is her view and that might not be the view of others, but I have grown to respect this author and therefore cannot reject her comments.

To be a writer you have to learn to accept criticism otherwise you will never get any better. Today I am digesting her points, taking on board those I believe are valid and will endeavour to work harder at perfecting my craft because that is what I believe I need to do in order to get my work published. Nothing worthwhile is ever easy isn't that the saying ???

I also re-read her email and took the only praise I could see,"  I see in this writing evidence of a vivid imagination, and I would like to see you bring that to fruition through the written word."

Today as the sun peeps out every now and then from behind the cloud filled sky, I smile, pick myself up off the floor, and realize that just as I have climbed a mountain,( which is what I consider I have done over the past three years) when you get to the top it is only then that you can fully see how many more mountains there are out there that you need to climb. The question of course for a struggling writer is do you continue onwards or do you head home with your tail between your legs???   I cannot truthfully give an answer quite yet, but after watching the Oscars last night I took this quote from Ben Affleck's acceptance speech and I'm going to run with it.

"I want to thank them and I want to thank what they taught me, which is that you have to work harder than you think you possibly can. You can't hold grudges. It's hard but you can't hold grudges. And it doesn't matter how you get knocked down in life because that's going to happen. All that matters is you gotta get up."
 

                                                                        Ben Affleck

I also read this on, Dealing with Rejection by Ellen Jackson

This is what I've learned. Stories are like people–imperfect and flawed. If your work is competent, some readers will hate it; some will like it. You have to find a way to believe in yourself, even if others don't. A writer puts her heart on the line and it gets stomped on again and again. You may think successful writers have some special talent, some magic potion, that allows them to avoid all this heartache. They don’t.

So what’s a writer to do? How should you handle rejection? How do you find the strength to believe in yourself when your writing is rejected?

I have no secrets, but I do have a few thoughts that have helped me over the years:

1. Success as a writer depends more on intelligent persistence than on raw talent. By "intelligent persistence" I mean the ability to learn from mistakes, to figure out what you’re doing wrong, and then to change it. I know a talented writer who gave up after one rejection from one editor. I know another writer–with very little natural writing ability--who writes and rewrites and gets rejected over and over. The first writer has never been published. The second writer has published more than thirty children’s books. As James Michener said: "Character consists of what you do on the third or fourth tries."

2. If your manuscript is rejected, it may have nothing to do with merit. An editor once said to me, "If people only knew the trivial factors that determine which books get published and which don’t, they wouldn’t take it all so seriously. Yesterday I turned down a story about a cat because we had just bought a cat story. Sometimes I reject a perfectly good girls’ story because we’re trying to buy more boys’ stories–or vice versa. A week ago I rejected a story about spiders. It was a great story, but spiders just aren’t my thing."

3. Plan for rejection before it happens. Not long ago, I received six rejections in one day–probably a world's record. O.K. I was a little discouraged. But I wasn’t devastated because I had a plan. I sent two new stories to two of the rejecting publishers (my way of getting back on the horse that had just bucked me off). I also popped the rejected manuscripts into pre-addressed, ready-to-go envelopes and sent them out again. In fifteen minutes I'd moved from disappointment to hope.

Rejection is part of the process, so be ready for it. Or, as Jonathan Winters says, "When your ship doesn’t come in, swim out to it."

4. If someone gives you specific criticism, regard it as a gift. I always thank the person who gives me criticism–whether or not I agree (and even if I’m tempted to have a temper tantrum). Unless the feedback is deliberately hurtful (For example: "Your story is so boring, I’d rather read about manure."), I assume that the reader is trying to be helpful. If I agree with the comments, I make the suggested changes. If I’m neutral about the comments, I still might make the changes as long as they don’t violate the integrity of the story.

If I disagree with the criticism, I usually check with someone I trust to see if the comments have any merit. For example, an editor once told me to change all the human characters in my fractured fairy tale CINDER EDNA into pigs. Pigs?!! The characters seemed just fine to me. But a friend helped me see the real problem. "The story’s nice, but sort of ho-hum," she said. O.K., now I understood. The story wasn’t funny enough. I solved the problem by making the people funnier, not by turning them into pigs, and eventually I found the right publisher for it.

5. If you find yourself in Nobodyland, explore the terrain. Why are people afraid of rejection? Because they don’t want to live in Nobodyland. The people in Nobodyland, are slugs and worms. They’re invisible–or worse than invisible. Have you ever lived in Nobodyland? Most of us have at one time or another.

But don’t be afraid of Nobodyland. It’s your best source of material, especially if you write for kids. Think about it. Children, by definition, are powerless and lack control in their lives. Being in Nobodyland can help you remember what it's like to be young, powerless, and afraid. Rejection helps you empathize with those who have no voice.

6. Rejection-proof your manuscript. Write from your heart. Everyone is looking for a little bit of wisdom to help them get through life with courage and grace. Do you have wisdom to share? Is your gift humor? Can you make a child laugh? Can you tell the truth in a new way? What was important to you when your were a child? Make the clear expression of your passion your primary goal. Then show your writing to friends who know you and will understand what you’re trying to say. If one person "gets" it, you've planted a seed. Your writing is successful–no matter how the rest of the world judges you. The rest is just ego.

Never give up. And most importantly, be true to yourself. Write from your heart, in your own voice, and about what you believe in.
Louise Brown
 

      

Nothing on earth can stop people writing the books they want to write. It’s a matter of   desire. Don’t be down-hearted.’ VIctoria Glendinning

Love is in the air.

Well it's Valentines Day tomorrow and if you're out dashing around trying to figure out what your loved one wants for this dedicated day of love and romance. Here's a little secret, she/he probably wants the same thing, acknowledgement that they're important in your life. That they matter in some small way!!

Life is busy for most of us, we all get caught up in work and the kids. And life can be so darn complicated at times.We run around stir-crazy pulling our hair out most of the time with what needs to be done.Well if you're anything like me you do!!! But actually setting aside time for the one you love and making that person feel special is so important in any relationship and it doesn't require a hefty bank balance in order to do so.

Flowers, chocolates, whatever floats your loved one's boats, I guess that is the key. Knowing what will make your partner happy and if you love them you should know. I think it can definitely be in the small things you do, like listening to them as they retell you their busy day. Make them feel good about what they have acheived. Turning off all the electronics and talking, giving them your undivided attention. Making a great meal and talking over a glass of wine. Simple pleasures that we mostly don't bother with after a while. If for no other reason Valentine's Day sets aside time to stop everything else and be grateful for those who love us and share our lives day in, day out, for better for worse. Show them you appreciate them. Show them you still love them. x


Yesterday on a spur of the moment I decided to try another short story competition and here's my story.


                                                My Angel written by Jennifer Davies

                                                    

“Kenneth what’s so special about the picture? You stare at it for hours?”

Nurse Philips handed back the antique gold frame that held the treasured black and white photograph, biting her lip.

“I hope I’m not prying?”

Kenneth Thomas a ninety-two year old veteran held the frame in his shaky and sun mottled hands. Such a long time ago.

“It’s a picture of an angel!” He turned to stare straight into her face, his eyes unblinking.

Nurse Philips moved closer and peered over his shoulder.

“Where?”

He could remember the day as if it were yesterday. It was the Liberation of Paris, August 26^th 1944 and he was sat astride a tank with several of his squadron posing for the cameras on the Champs-Elysees. Smiling French ladies were hoisted up onto the tank especially for the magazine taking the shot of allied forces marching through Paris. The mood was euphoric.

“We were the conquering heroes that day. Strangers cheering, women throwing themselves at us in the streets, but I knew something was amiss. I could smell roses… roses were her favorites.” He coughed, spluttered and clutched at his chest.

“Mr. Thomas are you alright, you don’t have to explain?”

He patted her hand and carried on as if needing to tell his story,” Hitler’s army had just been chased out of Paris and we were celebrating. That’s me right there and that’s Mikey, Ginger and Scott. Good guys all of them. As I said the women were very pretty strangers and I didn’t see this photograph until much later, but there right beside me is Marion, she spoke to me.” His finger gently smoothed across the frame and a stray tear fell upon his cheek.

“She’s beautiful, who is she?”  

A pain radiated across his left arm and gripped his chest.”That raven haired beauty was my wife. We’d only been married four months when I left for Normandy. I was part of Operation Overlord. I left on the 6^th of June 1944 along with thousands of troops and vessels. Two months it took for us to infiltrate their defenses on Omaha beach. Two months. Many died.  I barely made it but through it all I kept thinking of Marion and our child. Of how I must survive for their sakes. Her memory made me strong. The irony of course is that she died in childbirth. I didn’t know until after the war. Nurse, war is terrible, so much lost of life, so many horrific injuries. Terrible atrocities, things you can never forget. But throughout it all I felt her with me like a guardian angel right to the end.”

“Oh Mr. Thomas I’m so sorry that’s so sad. What happened to the child?”

 

 

 

He patted her hand seeing that she too was crying, “Its all right dear, we fell in love the moment we met in that dusty old book store in Devon. It was war time and everything was a rush. We married as soon as we could get a license. Of course I didn’t ship out straight away and believe you me we made a lifetime of memories in those short months. More than most have in a lifetime. She was the love of my life. I knew she was carrying my child before I went to Normandy. We choose the names together. Daniel, if it was a boy and Catherine for a girl.”

A throaty cough caught Kenneth and he paused his eyes watering.

“Kenneth take this.” She passed him a glass of cold water and he swallowed.

“Thank you. Anyway Daniel was born and I damaged these,” he slapped his legs in the wheelchair and rubbed his arm,” landmine in Lorraine. When I arrived home I had forgotten all about Marion and her family thought I had died. For a year she haunted me until finally I regained my memory and Daniel. He will be here this weekend. ”

A buzzer called the nurse away. A scent of roses wafted around Mr. Thomas, he took a deep breath and slumped back in his chair. He knew today she would visit him, the pain was unbearable and she had promised him she would visit again, when it was time.

It was time.

My angel.   

Happy writing x

Very Inspiring Blogger Award

 

I was very surprised and delighted to receive this award from the very lovely writer Jeanetter Anderson. http://jeanettesandersen.blogspot.com/2013/02/very-inspiring-blogger-award.html Please check out her web site. Thank you so much xxx.

Here are the rules of the award:
1.) Display the award logo on your blog.
2.) Link back to the person who nominated you.
3.) State 7 things about yourself.
4.) Nominate 15 bloggers for this award.
5.) Notify those bloggers of the nomination by linking to one of their specific posts so that they get notified by ping back
 

          1) My treat is a Skinny Vanilla Latte.
          2) I love anything covered in Chocolate.
          3) I'm a Leo.
          4) Love Grey's Anatomy.
          5 ) Favourite place to visit a bookstore or Library.
          6) Mother to 4 boys.
           7)I'm reading Beautiful Creatures at the moment and loving it!

I have to say to pick 15 bloggers for the  Very Inspiring Blogger Award  was quite a feat, there are so many out there that deserve it. My selections are below. Some are just starting out and it's always good to have support and there are others who are further along in their journey. Please check them out :)

Adele Symonds  http://adelesymonds.wordpress.com
Jacqueline Blakeston http://wheeliemum42.blogspot.com
Aimee Duffy http://theromantichics.blogspot.co.uk
Terry Shepard http://terry1954.wordpress.com
Stutleytales http://stutleytales.wordpress.com
Jeanette Anderson http://jeanetteAndersen.blogspot.com
Carmen Falcone http://carmenfalcone.blogspot.com
Annie Seaton http://AnnieSeaton.blogspot.com
Sharla Shults http://awakenings.blogspot.com
Kevin Ashman http://KevinAshman.blogspot.com
Prodigal Daughter http://iprodigaldaughter.wordpress.com
James Montgomery http://writerswhokill.blogspot.com
Diane Robinson http://allaboutchildrensbooks.blogspot.com
Randy Attwood http://attwoodgotpublished.blogspot.com
Danica Winters http://DanicaWinters.blogspot.com




Happy Writing Everyone!

Short Story....

 

 

So excited and busy this week. My writing week began at the weekend in between the usual going ons for a Saturday, I stopped to click on one of my writing groups and up popped a Short story writing comp. Looking around as my husband was trying to fix his computer, my youngest was playing Robinson Crusoe in his make shift fort in the garden with his friends, and my teens were at practice, I sat and daydreamed...
 

I confess when I feel excited, a look comes over me. I feel like a child caught in the candy store stuffing sweets into her pocket. So, I sat there with butterflies in my tummy, glancing up every now and then to make sure that no one needed me or was going to ask what was I doing sitting there again on the computer, on the weekend? And started to tap away.
 

You see I love a challenge. I love to test myself and see if I can create a story with a title that someone else has created. This short story competition was to write a piece minimum of 600 words with a maximum of 715. The genre was outside my norm as it was Thriller and Suspense. But I thought why not. I hoped to create a story that was slighty spooky, anyway have a read and let me know what you think?

 

                                New Year’s Eve   (714)

 

Victoria brushed her blond hair. Her hand stroked against the silky strands and she smiled. New Year’s Eve, another year about to begin and maybe, just maybe, a fresh start. The door bell chimed, she checked her appearance once more and moved to answer the door.

“Michael, you’re early?”

“Forgive me. You look very nice.” He leaned in close and kissed her cheek, he then produced a bouquet of red roses. Victoria’s black lace dress clung to her shapely figure and the low cut revealed ample cleavage.

“Oh… how very kind.”  Red, red blood… Her eyelids fluttered and she took the flowers leaving them carefully on the hallway table.

“Shall I bring them into the kitchen?”

“No leave them… I’ll get a vase and some water.”

A memory surfaced, her back stiffened and an icy sensation snaked down her spine. Her heart began to pound; she shook her head and drew her lips in tight but continued on through the living room. Warmth oozed from the open fire place that crackled as the logs snapped and shadows flickered off the white washed stone walls. She stepped up into the dining room, her hands clasped the back of one of the wooden chairs and she surveyed the room. Crisp white linens, tall white pillar candles and silver cutlery adorned the wooden table. In the centre a small arrangement of sweet lavender and she breathed in the fragrance. A hand on her shoulder made her jump.

“You’re so tense.” His hands massaged her back.

“Would you like a glass of wine, I have some chilling in the fridge.”

He turned her around and cupped her face, “Not before I do this.”

He lifted her chin upwards towards his mouth and kissed her lips. His hands left her face and wrapped themselves around her instead.

“Better?” he said as he loosened his grip and stood back.

“Much…Let me get the wine and I need to check on dinner.” She stalked into the kitchen, poured two glasses on Pinot Grigio, checked on the chicken that was cooking in the oven and returned with the wine in hand. The room was empty, so she placed the glasses on that table and went back into the kitchen to get dinner. Victoria pulled out a long knife and began to sharpen it. Her eyes stared at the length of the blade as she ran it through; the stainless steel glinted at her.

“You forgot the vase, so I thought I’d bring the flowers here. Where do keep them? Oh, and I need a plaster, the thorns are so sharp.” Michael put the roses next to the sink and held his finger up, a thick and steady stream of blood trickled down his hand.

Stay away, please stay away, please, don’t hurt me. Victoria dropped the knife with a clatter and covered her ears to drown out the sound, but images flashed in front. A large man with horrible stinky breath slapped her across the face. He grabbed her roughly and threw her on the floor.

“No…” She blinked and screamed picking up the knife off the counter and she flew towards Michael. Her arm raised high above her head. His back faced her as he washed his hand under the tap. He turned just as her hand descended and stabbed into his arm, ripping into his sleeve, slicing away at the skin. The white cotton turned crimson.

“Victoria, no it’s Dr Hughes…I’m here to help. I’m not going to hurt you. Look at me.” He gave her a gentle shake and her glazed stare lifted, her eyes blinked.

“What…” Her eyes caught hold of the blood on his sleeve and she stared up at him.

“Dr Hughes what are you doing here?”

“I come every week to check on your progress, you know that…Victoria.”

She stormed out of the kitchen, ran into the toilets and locked the door. She stared into the mirror and lifted her brush, “Now be a good little girl and brush your hair, get all the knots out and make your hair shine. You look so pretty when your hair is brushed.” And she stared in the mirror, brushing her hair over and over, humming a tune, whilst a hand banged on the door.

                                                                             ***

That it's for now folks! I'm working on a piece for next week about, What is Romance ? Do Men view it differently to Women ?  And is it important in a relationship? All research ... Would love some opinions ? I still continue to rewrite my WIP and all I can say is that it's going well...

What makes the ladies Swoon???

It's Friday and I'm in a rather frivolous and jolly mood. After a recent girlie night out that involved some drinking, playing pool, and soaking up the atmosphere at a lively Irish bar. Yes, I do leave my computer on occasion and venture out. And when I do, I realise I should go out more often !!

So, I'm exploring today, what makes the ladies Swoon?? After all it's necessary to have an understanding of what stirs a woman's passion, when writing romance novels and to have insight into the physiology and psychology behind it. Our bodies were made for this. We were created to find a mate, that's biology and how the human race continues to survive. But what draws us to one particular person ??    

And what makes a hottie? Is it the swarthy good looks,  the brooding stare? The smile? Or the sense of humor? The voice? The way they move on the dance floor? Or the abs...?

 Justin Bieber with his youthful, cute, and cuddly looks has been selected in the past as a Teen hottie, beating other favourites that were much older such as Ian Somerhalder, Robert Pattinson, and Taylor Lautner. 

  Elizabeth Kane, teaches Psychology and she states the first step to falling in love is "The initial attraction." And that when we are attracted, "It's a powerful moment when we are aware of our heart pounding,"    

Wikipedia states that the," Laws of Attraction is the name given to the belief that 'like attracts like' and that by focusing on positive or negative thoughts, one can bring about positive or negative results."

Using this statement it follows that if you believe you are attractive then you search for a partner that you also perceive as being equally attractive.

At," Psych Central" they believe that women may choose a partner based on the kind of relationship they want to develop. For a long-term relationship women seek a good provider for themselves and their children, but when seeking a short term or fling look for more physical attractive and masculine traits?? The rules here may have changed as many women are the bread winners and don't look to their partners for the means to support them and therefore it wouldn't be a factor.

David Buss a psychology researcher from Texas Austin supported this belief, but added," Attractive women want it all."  Meaning they didn't only search for someone that was aesthetically pleasing and strong they also looked for someone who was trusting, of good moral background, that was financially secure, confident, charming, trusting...Is there such an individual ???? 

                                   

Physical Attractiveness,"Physical attractiveness is the degree to which a person's physical traits are considered aesthetically pleasing or beautiful." Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and when we are gripped by someone we find attractive our body has it's own response.

Psychologist Dr Rachel Needle states,"Specific chemicals substances such as oxytocin, phenothylamine and dopamine have been found to play a role in human experiences and behaviours associated with love and attraction. They make us feel alert, excited, and wanting to bond."

So you see girls when we see a hottie it's natural that we became all flustered and hot, not because we're menopausal but simply because our bodies are made that way. :))

What makes a hottie is really an individual perception, looks are they important? The smile definitely moves us, personality is a must. A sense of humor is a strong factor, charm, intellect, confidence, nice fit-body? Lovely accent, generous spirit. Strength. Piercing eyes?

Wealth, doesn't seem to matter, the most repeated statement about what makes a man attractive and a hottie in my book is, "A man that can carry a conversation and make you laugh. A man who possesses confidence and charm, looks fade, but unless he loses his mind, his charm will always be there."

 So, whilst physical attributes might be initially important, when you have that first powerful encounter, if there are not enough other much desired qualities to back those looks up, the attraction falls flat. A man may look aesthetically beautiful, but if his voice is rather too high pitched or he simply cannot boogie on down, an "All American Face" isn't  going to be enough to get those hormones pumping...

Ian Sommerhalder is my hottie. Who's yours??? Happy Friday...

What if ???? Are you ready ???

                         How can we not be affected by the devastation of hurricane Sandy?

I'm sorry this post is so late, it should've really gone out last week, but I just couldn't get it together. The week literally ran away with itself and I never caught up. I started to write this and never finished. The storm came and went leaving a trail of disaster in its wake. Needless to say that after watching the numerous news reports I felt so deeply for those people who were faced with such loss. I tried to imagine how I would cope if that had been my family? And although we live 30mins outside of Boston and well away from the coast, that flooding wouldn't be an issue, the way the world and the weather is changing, who knows what natural disaster may strike and leave us totally unprepared.

When I started to write my YA novel Children of Annwn :The Promise, one of the things I did was research the ways that the world may end. I read through the Exit Mundi theories. Its a collection of end of world hypothesis. Terrifying!!!
www.exitmundi.nl/

As we battened done our hatches last week I couldn't help but think over those possible end of world scenario's and ponder that for all our advances in modern technology, what can we really do when Mother Nature gets wild.

Watching the communities hardest hit by Sandy was like watching survivor man. Trying to get the means to survive seemed strikingly difficult. Do we need to learn how to survive these kind of events ? Are we going to see more and more of them? Should we be looking to teach our communities how to respond?

I know in my own family, my children are used to and take for granted, so much. What if one day everything that we took for granted was gone and we had to learn to start all over again. Would we be able to survive?

I'm not sure why, I felt so affected by Sandy but I did.


In 2005 when Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans it was unbelievable as we saw 80 % of it flooded. Some areas were under a staggering 15 feet of water. There was utter chaos, with lootings, people being murdered. 1200 people lost their lives. Its estimated the damage that was caused reached 108 billion dollars

Last year Hurricane Irene hit the Caribbean and the East coast causing significant damage to the toll of 15 billion and there are estimates out there that suggest Hurricane Sandy could cost up to 50 Billion.

With the United States of America in an unbelievable and staggering

$16,214,358,823,745.36     Debt as of 8th November 2012.
www.davemanuel.com/us-national-debt-clock-php


On early Wednesday morning when Mr Barack Obama gave his victory speech I did hear him mention " We want our children to live in an America that isn't burdened by debt, that isn't weakened
by inequality, that isn't threatened by the destructive power of a warming planet"

I hope therefore that in his plan to move forward that he looks at how we combat the future of global warming and the challenges of a changing planet. How its all paid for I don't have an answer and I am concerned that the national debt it only going to rise for every man, woman and child.

However, I firmly believe that these natural disasters are of grave concern for our future and our children's future and so on. With one of the possible exit mundi theories it SUGGESTS that the volcano called "Cumbre Vieja" on the Island of La Palma off the African shore will not only erupt but that it will split and cause a huge chunk of the island to drop into the ocean. KERPLUNK!!!!

This drop in the ocean MAY unleash a Megatsuami of untold proportions that would forever change the landscape of the Eastern Coast of America. From the moment the island hits the ocean, America would have 8 hrs to evacuate and respond.

Waves twice the height of the Empire state building will obliterate New York!!! Waves will be travelling faster than a plane!!!  These are only predictions!!!!!! But very scary nevertheless...

Are we prepared? Are we doing enough to safeguard our future?

Maybe, I felt affected by Sandy because I've never been faced with disaster, my life is comfortable. It made me think that one day I may have to learn to adapt, to survive.

In my community one very strong willed and courageous lady Erica Guagenti organised a collection of supplies to be sent directly to those in such dreadful need. Her husband's company Acquia footed the shipping bill. 784lbs and 19 moving boxes later the supplies are being sent. When Erica asked, I like many others were glad to be involved, to be able to actually do something to help. After this I have seen others came up with similar plans and I hear now that the school is to get involved in a fundraising effort for the victims of Sandy. Ah, the human spirit!!!! As long as there are people that are willing to help, we will endeavour, we will conquer and we will overcome.

We may not be able to stop the effects of Mother Nature, but we can as a group of people come together and help each other to survive. I believe in Mr Presidents words," That while each of us will pursue our own individual dreams, we are an American family, and we rise or fall together as one nation and as one people."

Writing whilst on vacation...

This week I have felt inspired to put pen to paper whilst traveling on vacation to Williamsburg, Virginia. I was very excited about this trip and as such gathered together some books in advance to give us an idea of what to expect when we arrived and so we could plan our weeks stay. With three kids between the ages of 7/14 we needed to have activities to satisfy all ages. I think we managed that and had a full and busy week. I would definitely go back there in a heart beat, with Busch gardens and Water country on the door step we managed to entertain the kids, tire them out and then squeeze in some interactive history at the historic triangle sites of Jamestown, Yorktown and Williamsburg. The boys even had a full day Ocean fishing which they loved whilst I did a bit of retail therapy. Oh, and  I almost forgot I managed to write a couple of chapters for my new story , The Welsh Witch. Not sure how but I felt I needed to and so I did. I'm travelling again in a couple of days back home this time to Wales to visit my mum, so my blog maybe a bit hit or miss. Anyway, a small excerpt of my latest offering first draft and another WIP...

                                                                  The Welsh Witch

Splashing the crisp cool water over her face wakes her from the sleepy stupor that dominates her senses. Had she been drugged? That may account for the memory loss and the overwhelming fatigue. Damn, if only she could clearly remember. Standing now she gazed around. Okay, no matter what had happened she had to find some clothes, maybe food and more importantly come up with a plan. Her feet moved one in front of the other. Before she knew it she was furiously sprinting  through the forest, pushing the bushes away. Not pausing for breath , the sounds of screeching birds were ignored, she simply kept on running. Ella, could run twenty miles easily. Running was freedom. A lesson she had learnt early on. Ignoring the aching pains of her body she came outside of herself and to many it looked as if she was flying when she went into survival mode. Some time later her eyes narrowed on an  inconspicuous log cabin.

"Christ, what the fucking hell is going on down there?" Walter shouted down the phone. Marcus sighed, the shit had hit the proverbial fan in the last twelve hours and now his boss was cursing at him as if it was all his fault. Which in part it was but hell Walter took every opportunity to have a go, he'd never like the arrogant prick and the feeling seemed to be mutual. But he was a means to an end. Bring in the girl and the big promotion in Washington is yours. At least that's what he been led to believe. It was all he wanted. And now, shit, shit. "I'm sorry sir." He ran his hand through his unruly mop of dark curls. Truth was he didn't know what the hell had happened. "Jesus, one minute I was in the Seasons restaurant one table away from them. They were eating and chatting everything seemed fine. Then they headed back to her place. I followed them and waited. As I started to do a sweep around the grounds I sensed someone else was there, another agent maybe. I did a full perimeter search and nothing, so I let it go. There were shouts coming from inside, I crept closer and watched them through the window in the living room. Everything was going ballistic. The guy Aidan was really having a go yelling and then he smacked her right in the fucking face. Hell, I was going to go in and stop it all, but then I got knocked out."

His hand rubbed his head where a lump had formed and still ached. He should have trusted his senses for once they were spot on, he'd known something was off. Even telling his boss seemed somehow wrong. When he woken up he simply couldn't believe the scene. Aidan was dead with his head smashed in, there was blood splattered all over the wall and Ella was missing. He still couldn't quite see Ella as a murderer. The last thing he'd seen was her crashing to the floor, after Aidan's hand had walloped her across the face. It had made his blood boil.  "Well, you'd better fucking find out and quick. Head quarters are looking for blood. You were meant to bring her in last week. On your request I gave you that extra week, but the crazy bitch has now killed her lover. Jesus, this couldn't get any worse. Mark my words I'm not going down for this, do you understand?" There was a pause Marcus knew without doubt, had always known when push came to shove, he was on his own.
"Yes, sir loud and clear."

Marcus had a very clear picture of Ella Masters in his mind and bitch and murderer simply didn't fit. Could he have been so wrong? It wasn't that he fancied her she was definitely not his type. He usually went for the blonde's, whereas Ella had long indistinguishable brown hair, always swept backwards into a tight ponytail. Very much the school marm, not the sexy kitten look. No, she was definitely not his type. Even her eyes were a wishy washy blue or maybe green it was hard to be sure behind her large glasses that seemed too big for her small face. But her smile when she allowed anyone to see it was wicked and innocent all rolled into one. He remembered when he handed her her favourite skinny vanilla latte and he'd felt an overwhelming sense of loss and sadness flood him. Also, a strong need to protect and help had ruffled his feathers so much that he'd snatched his hand away and he'd refused to meet her eyes that he knew had been looking directly into his. His mother had once told him he had a gift for knowing people. He swore at the thought of his mother and a bitter taste rose up in his mouth of revulsion.